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ontius pilate 
Saint Ronan 

of Brittany 
Th6ophile 

Three plays in verse 

by Henry Copley 'Greene 



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New York 
Qcott-Thaw Company 






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ONriUS PILATE 
SJmr RONAN OF BRI^rrANT 
\$H^OPHILE 






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^Desunt Lacrymae Rerum " 



PONTIUS PILATE 
A MTSTERT PLAT 



•To 
George Whitefield Chadwick 



PONTIUS PILATE 

ACT I 

[^/ yerusalem^ a court before the palace 
of Herod, To the right ^ a gate guarded by 
Longinus and soldiers under him. At the 
back^ steps mounting to a doorway^ the 
hangings across which^ drawn somewhat 
apart^ show the Hall of fustice. In the 
Hall^ Pontius Pilate and Procla 

Procla 
Lo, many things and sore, because of Him, 
Have I beheld and suffered in a dream. 

Pilate 
A dream ? The semblance of vain things that seem 
And are not. 

Procla 
Yea, but shall be. 

Pilate \ coming down into the court 
False and dim 
The passing dreams that fright thee. 

Procla \^following him 

Pilate, hear; 
Nay, hear me. For the vision's face was clear 
With radiance of foresight and of truth 

Pilate 
Truth ? 

Procla 
Question not; but hearken, lest in sooth 
3 



This woe unto the world — and thee, alas, — 
Through thee, oh Pilate, come indeed to pass. 
For in my dreams, one sorrowful, though pure and mild, 
One goaded, rent and spat upon, though as a child, 

Tender and undefiled, 
Lo, such an One, yet godlike, stood before thy throne, 
Tormented of his people, comfortless, alone. 
Uttering nor word nor moan. 

Pilate 
Him I released ? 

Procla 

Unto the fury of the Jews, to crucify ! 

And he was nailed upon a cross, and raised on high 

In agony to die. 
And darkness fell upon the earth ; its vales were rent, 
Its mountains seared with lightning and with fires unspent. 

By heavenly vengeance sent. 

Pilate 
The vision ceased ? 

Procla 

Lo, in my dream, Light and a voice that cried, 
" Behold the Living God whom ye have crucified. 

Deathless though He hath died, 
Living though He hath lain three days within the tomb, 
He, the Eternal, far above thine earthly gloom. 

Shall seal the nations' doom." 

Pilate [compassionately 

Thy dread increased ? 

4 



Procla 
Alas, I saw thee in thy latter day accursed, 
Avoided, damned, hate-ridden, so that no man durst 

In mercy quench thy thirst. 
And o'er thee in thy wandering, ever year by year, 
Through burning waste, by bitter stream and mere. 

Horror hung huge and drear. 

Pilate 
To-day the feast . . . 

Procla [kneeling 

Give heed ! 

• Pilate 

Sweet Procla, rise ; be comforted. 
The demigod thou sawest is not dead ; 
Nay, and before my throne shall not be led 
To-day in bonds by thine accusing Jews. 
Thou knowest well the "holy" rites they use. 
Cleansing themselves to eat the Paschal lamb. 
Will they now sully and befoul and damn 
Washed hands and whiter spirits with the taint 
Of Roman halls and Rome's uncircumcised ? 

Servants of the High Priest [outside 

Blasphemer ! 

Procla 
Listen ! 

The Servants 
Soul-seducer I 

Procla 

Faint 

5 



And sufFering, alas, he comes, despised 
And comfortless ... 

The Servants 
A cross ! a cross ! 

Procla 

O hear ! 
The Servants \nearer 

Nay^ stone him ! stone him ! stone him ! 

Procla 

Grant my fear 
One "boon ; that if indeed they bring him here, 
Thou'lt free him ! Pilate, Pilate, grant me this ! 

Pilate 
And so perchance let rape and murder miss 
Their due reward ? — because a woman saw 
Visions by night, let Rome's imperial law 
Fail in Jerusalem ? Nay ! Nay, be still : 
Beseech me not, lest haply all my will 
Turn hard against thee. 

The Servants [yet nearer 

Crucify him I 

Procla 

Hark! 
Pilate 
Hither despite the feast ? A thing of mark. 

The Servants \at the gate 

To the Palace of Herod^ blasphemer and traitor^ 
Seducer and sinner; scourge him and stone him I 
To Pilate^ to Pilate^ to Rome's Procurator I 

6 



Destroyer^ betrayer; let no man bemoan htm! 
Seducer and sinner ; scourge him and stone him! 

[^Enter Longinus 
Procla 
What news, Longinus ? 

Pilate 

Soldier that thou art. 
Speak, good Longinus, swiftly. 

Longinus 

I know, alas. 
Hardly what should I say. 

Procla 

Fear not. Take heart. 

Longinus 
Why then, in brief, the High Priest Caiaphas 
Bringeth in bonds Jesus, the lowly King, 
Who, riding here of late upon an ass. 
Was hailed by multitudes with cries that ring 
Hosanna and hosanna through my soul. 
Him, though of aspect wonderful, the Priest 
Would slay . . . 

Pilate 
Enough, for thou hast gained thy goal. 
Though Annas, like a fierce and wily beast, 
Through force of craft would slay him, he shall live. 
Live unless guilty. Hold ; ere yet ye give 
Entrance to any, speak. The men without 
Who would have stoned him, are not they the rout 
And rabble howling ever at the heels 
Of Annas and of Caiaphas ? 



LONGINUS 

They are. 
Pilate 
Let them not follow him, whose face reveals 
Such innocence. But swift, with bolt and bar. 
Close the west gate ; and through Jerusalem 
Seek suddenly, lest I have need of them, 
All who have hailed him King. 

LONGINUS 

It shall be done. 

[71? those outside 
Saving the priests and this poor lowly one. 
None enter. 

\_Annas and Caiaphas^ followed by Christy 
pass in through the gate 

Procla 
Look ; they mock thee. 

Pilate 

Say' St thou so .? 

Procla 
Smiling they pass the gate, and with them, lo. 
The man of sorrow. 

Pilate 
Annas, Caiaphas, 
Servants of Him to whom all flesh is grass, 
What godlike and what holy will is yours 
In seeking justice at imperial doors ? 

Annas 
The vengeful will of God, the Lord of wars. 
8 



Pilate 
So tender-eyed a sinner never yet I saw. 
Yet deal with him according to your law. 

Caiaphas 
We may not do with him as God's law saith. 

Annas 
Thy law hath torn from us the power of death. 

Pilate 
His look is gentle and his brow serene. 
Yet would ye slay the Nazarene? 

Annas 
Yea! for we have a law, 
And by our law he ought to die. 

" Slay ! cut him down like straw." 
So saith the law ye would defy. 
But hear ye Him before whose face 
The whirlwinds falter, and the earth 

Trembles and quakes. 
Yea, hear ye Him who shall abase 
Thy pomp and turn thy power to mirth ; 
For lo. He wakes. 

Pilate 
Why here is wrath I had not thought to find, 
And guilt, forsooth, to which mine eyes are blind. 
Wherefore that I may open them and see. 
Unto the Hall of Judgment come with me. 

Caiaphas 
We may not enter halls unsanctified. 

9 



Annas 
Nor to th' uncircumcised submit our pride. 

Pilate 
And thou, poor Nazarene, what sayest thou ? 

Christ 
In bonds unto the world's command I bow. 

^Christ J following Pilate^ goes into Judg- 
ment Hall. Procla waits by the doorway 

Caiaphas 
All ye that wait without give ear ; 
Jesus hath set at naught the fear 
Of God whose high commands ye hear. 

Annas 
He stands within the Roman hall ! 

The Servants \_outside 

Defiled I Defiled ! Beyond the wall^ 
Stone-stricken.^ let the sinner fall! 

Women [outside 

Oh leave him life. Where thistles grew 
His words the seed of roses strew., 
And water them with mountain dew ! 

Pilate [from the Judgment Seat 
Whence art thou, meek and lowly one ? — 
Naught answerest thou ? Dost thou not know 
That I have power to lay thee low ? 

Christ 
Thy power is pardoned thee above ; 
But woe to them that owe me love. 

lO 



Caiaphas 
Behold, he calleth down a curse 
On all whose lips may not rehearse 
His love, than which no sins are worse. 

Annas 
Arise, nor let your vengeance nod ! 
Arise and smite with many a rod 
This rebel against the law of God ! 

Women [outside 

Oh spare him ; for his words take wing^ 
And hear the soul where seraphs sing 
The praise of God and Christ the King. 

Pilate 
Art thou a king ? Speak, Nazarene. 

Christ 
My kingdom lies in realms unseen. 

Caiaphas 
Behold, the harlot's friend declares 
He ruleth o'er celestial airs. 

Annas 
Therefore where fire eternal flares, 
Because the man hath so blasphemed. 
Let torture such as friends had deemed 
Too fiery match a sin undreamed ! 

Pilate 
Poor Nazarene. If no man bring 
Thee tribute, art thou still a king ? 

II 



Christ 
All those my subjects who have heard 
The living Truth, that is my word. 

Pilate 
And what is truth ? 

\Pilate^ followed by Christy returns from the 
fudgment Hall 

Annas 
Now, Procurator, wilt thou heed our law ? 

Pilate 
I questioned him and looked on him and saw 
No fault at all. 

Caiaphas 
Yet should the sinner die. 

Pilate 
Perchance. Yet, Caiaphas, I know not why. 

Annas 
So saith the law which thou thyself hast known 
To shake a Roman Procurator's throne. 
For 'twas the law which stirred Jerusalem 
To rise, and with a thousand deaths to stem 
Your bleeding tide of triumph when the home 
Of God lay prone beneath the power of Rome. 
Your pagan banners brought you blight and blame. 
Ye bore them from Jerusalem with shame 
Burning your cheeks. So shall they burn again 
If lawlessly thy will withhold the pain 
Of death. 



Pilate 
Spare me thy threats, and spare thy breath 5 
Give me in brief a reason for his death. 

Annas 
Slay, for we have a law, and by our law 
He ought to die. 

Pilate 
I looked on him and saw 
No taint of blame. 

Caiaphas 
Yet should the sinner die. 

Pilate 
Perchance. Yet, Caiaphas, I know not why. 

Annas 
Then hear, and learn, give heed and crucify. 
Yea, let the foul blasphemer's body lie 
Rotting at last beneath the nourished sod ; 
For he hath made himself the Son of God ! 

Pilate [dimly 

The Son of God ? With those clear eyes of love 
He may have looked upon the Lords above. 
He should not die. Yet may I guard his life 
And save Jerusalem from civil strife ? 

The priest saith sooth. My banners brought me blame. 

And blight and burning bitterness and shame. 

My legions could not quell the Jewish law : 

And must I see again what then I saw, 

These city streets made red with rippling blood 

And Rome's great peace corrupted in the bud ? 



Mary of Magdala \_outside 

Pilate! 

Pilate 
What voice of dread is this ? 

>- Mary 

Give ear ! 
Annas [whispering 

The woman of Magdala ! 

Mary 

Hear^ oh hear! 
Caiaphas 
She breaks through all the guard. 

Mary [storming in 

Oh, Pilate, list ! 
Procla 
She falls ; she kneels ! 

Mary [at Pilate's feet 

Behold, these men have hissed 
False accusations out against their Lord 
Jesus, the Christ, by whose redeeming word 
Lepers are cleansed, the blind from birth do see. 
The halt are healed, the dead are raised, and we. 
The lepers of the soul whose joys were dead, 
We, the blind leaders of the blind, are led 
Where endless life and light rejoice our hearts 
With love made pure. 

Caiaphas 
Behold the woman's arts. 
The harlot's wiles ! 

H 



Annas 
O cleanse Jerusalem ! 

Caiaphas 
Slay her with Jesus ! 

Annas 

Let the "Saviour" rest 
His head in death upon her bleeding breast ! 

Mary 
Nay, leave him life. Where thistles grew 
His words the seed of roses strew 
And water them with mountain dew. 

\From far off are heard the tramping and 
the voices of a multitude 

Procla 
Oh spare him, for his words take wing 
And bear the soul where seraphs sing 
The praise of God and Christ the King. 

[ The roar of the multitude draws nearer. 
Longinus enters 

Longinus 
Behold the Jews, assembled for the feast. 
Haste hither all unbidden ! 

Pilate [muttering 

Than a priest 
The mob is ever mightier. It shall choose 
'Twixt Jesus and a thief. 

[He speaks aside to Longinus^ then aloud 
Longinus, lose 
No instant ; go, unbar the gate, 

IS 



And let the raging waves of Fate 

Dash through and drown men's puny will 

In floods of power. 

LONGINUS 

The multitude . . . 
Pilate 

Would crucify this priestly brood ? 

All is foreseen. Can I not steer 

My craft through streams of Jewish ire ? 

Procla 
Pilate, beware ! 

LONGINUS 

The Jews desire . . . 

Pilate 
Speak not, Longinus, but obey. 

[Longinus goes out. The gate is opened^ and 
after a fateful pause., the multitude enter ^ 
and with them Barabbas^ bound 

Pilate 
Like wave on sullen wave of discontent 

Beneath a leaden firmament, 
So ominous and slow the silent stream 

Of elders and of them that dream, 
So leaden dark the flow of them whose hate 

Shall work the kindly will of Fate. 

Annas [ironically 

Behold the followers of the Nazarene ! 

Caiaphas 
Will they not judge the culprit clean ? 
i6 



Pilate 
They shall proclaim the truth. Yea, sons of Israel, 
Look ye, and judge, and say : hath this your king denied 
The Lord Jehovah's law? With many a miracle 
Hath he not shewn his power ? Shall he be crucified ? 

Procla 
Lo, in a world of strife. 

His soul is like a dove, 
Bringing you peace and life 

And endless life and love. 

Mary 
Lo, in a world of shame 

His soul is pure as air, 
Clearer than lambent flame 

And high and free and fair. 

Pilate 
Wherefore, though jealous men would nail him to a tree, 
Your mightier voice, ye people, still shall set him free. 
For yielding to your custom on this holy day, 
I will release to you one whom the Law would slay. 
Look then — for ye shall be obeyed — look well and choose 
Barabbas, or this Jesus called King of the Jews ? 

The People 
Not this man, but Barabbas ! 

Pilate 

Oh give heed, lest ruth 
Possess you utterly. 

The People 
Not this man, but Barabbas ! 
Release to us Barabbas ! 

J7 



Pilate 
Lo, the Lord of Truth ! 

The People 

Barabbas ! Nay ! Not this man, but Barabbas ! 

Pilate [^ft^^ ^ pause ^ in gloom 

So be it. Let Barabbas go his way. 
But what of Jesus called the Christ ? 

Annas 

Away, 
Away, away with him ! 

Pilate 
Oh, bow not to the priests ; 
But on the Passover, this holy feast of feasts, 
Let me proclaim your will. It shall not be denied. 
Behold the man ! 

The Jews [/« a huge outburst of fury 
Away ! Let him be crucified ! 

Pilate [staggered 

What evil hath he done ? 

The Jews 

Let him be crucified ! 

Procla 
Lo, in my dream, one sorrowful, though pure and mild. 
One goaded, rent and spat upon, though as a child 

Tender and undefiled. 
Yea, such an one, yet godlike, stood before thy throne. 
Tormented by his people, comfortless, alone, 

Uttering nor word nor moan. 

Pilate 
Him I released ? 

i8 



Procla 
Unto the Jews to crucify. 

Pilate [to the people 

So be it. I have spoKen and may not deny 
My given w^ords. Take ye this pure and blameless man, 
Yea, take ye him and crucify him; for I can 
No more. — Marcellus, here. Bring water in a bowl. 
Behold, ye people, I am guiltless, and my soul. 
Like these my hands washed clean, my sorrowing soul is free 
From this just person's blood. See ye to it. 

Caiaphas 

Yea, we 
Will see to it. 

Annas 
Let Jesus' blood be on my head. 

The Jews 
On us his blood, on us ! And when all we are dead. 
His blood be on our children and on theirs ! Away ! 

[Christy followed by Mary of Magdala 
and the people^ is led before Pilate 

The Jews [outside 

Away^ and stone him ! Spit on him I Oh^ rend and slay ! 
Rend I — Slay I — Smite I — Stone I — Crucify I 

Procla 

[As the yelling of the rabble fades afar off 
He shall be nailed upon a cross and raised on high ? 

Pilate 
In agony to die. 

19 



ACT II 

^Aforning of the third day. A room In the 
Palace of Herod, On the left^ a door-way 
leading to the courtyard. At the back^ win- 
dows overlooking yerusalem. On a chair 
near the centre.^ Pilate sits brooding^ his 

face in his hands 

Procla 
Peace. Peace, oh troubled Pilate. Lo, the sun 
Smiles, and the shrouded mountains one by one 
Are morning-clad in gladness. 

Pilate 

Golgotha, 
The place of skulls, is that sun-gilded ? Ah, 
Procla, in vain thy woful lips essay 
A word of healing kindness, to allay 
The flames of dark and ireful remorse 
That burn within me quenchless, while the hoarse 
Triumph of Jewish hordes, re-echoing still, 
Hounds on my cowardice . . . 

Procla 

Thou didst not kill ! 
And not through cowardice, but with thy will 
Strong in its sorrow didst thou wisely slake 
Their thirst for blood. 

Pilate 

Blindly I thought to make 
One sacrifice lead multitudes to live 

20 



Submissive in our peace. But can Rome give 
Peace to this wolfish and barbarian lair? 
Until the bleak and uttermost despair 
Of death cover the whole land's pallid face, 
Can aught subdue the spirit of a race 
Bloodthirsty and rebellious from the first ? 

A Voice \behind 

yehovah reigns ! 

Procla 
Hearken ! 

The Voice 

yehovah reigns ! 

Procla 
A wanderer, desert-parched, and mad with thirst. 

The Voice 
^^TVhom I have cursed^^ saith the Lord God^ " curse ye /'* 

Pilate 
In very truth their brutal wrath disdains, 
Yea, crucifies our peace. 

The Voice 

Of him who reigns 
Lo^ the voice crieth out through the mountains and over the sea^ 
" / have bared in mine anger and whetted the lightning my sword. 
In my fury arising^ behold I have scattered the horde 
Of mine enemies hither and thither; with wrath have I poured 
The red blood of mine enemies forth^ that the lightning my sword 
Might be drunken with blood ayidrejoice^^ saith fehovah the Lord, 
yehovah^ Lord and God. 



Pilate 
Their battle lust 
Still burns. Like rain poured out on desert dust 
His blood was shed in vain. In vain I slew 
The Nazarene whose dreaming spirit knew 
Peace veiled, perchance, save from celestial sight. 

Procla 
Pilate, oh turn from brooding; for the light 
Of morning fills each radiant vale with gold. 

Pilate 
My soul alone is shadowed ? Yea, with old 
Doubt and with aching wonder and with pain. 
For who is he whom my consent hath slain ? 
Hath he indeed with those clear eyes of love 
Looked pleadingly upon the Lords above ? 
And shall the mysterious answer of their breath 
Raise him indeed from the still cold of death ? 
It may not be. Yet would the whirlwinds mourn 
With earth and heaven for one of mortals born ? 
In vain we question ; for what man may know 
Aught save the fears that through his spirit flow ? 

Procla \_glancing out 

Hark, Pilate ; thou canst hear and know 
Lute music and the liquid flow 
Of song up welling from the heart 
Of love while lovers part. 

A Singer [passing outside 

Alas^ the starry darkness of the night is fled^ 
And love^ our love lies dead 
Beneath the sun, 

22 



For lo^ thy tresses in the darkness of the glade 
Filled me with bliss that bade 
Love's will be done. 

And lo^ I lay within the forest of thy hair^ 
My haunt and tiger lair 
By madness won. 

JlaSy the starry darkness of the night is fled^ 
And love^ our love lies dead 
Beneath the sun. 

Procla 
This when the earth is desolate with dread ? 
This when the heavens are blackened with despair? 

The Singer 
Oh yielding nighty oh deep and living shade . . . 

\_His voice fades in the distance 

Procla 
On Golgotha with bloodless lips he prayed 
For such as this. 

Pilate 
And with the rest, perchance 
This very voice mocked the forsaken glance 
Heavenward, whose agony made bleak and white 
Even Longinus watching among them that railed. 

Procla 
Only a malefactor on the Saviour's right 
Knew him and worshipped him and sought the blessed light 
Of pardon in his sight. 

Pilate 
But when life failed, 

23 



And tremulously with the dying of a sigh, 

He yielded up his spirit to the Lords on high. . . , 

Procla 

Ah, then with many a cry 
Of dread, men quailed ! 

Pilate 

Ghastly with dread they smote upon their breasts and wept, 
While over all things living a great darkness crept. 

And through the darkness leapt 
Earthward from heaven, unceasing cataracts of flame. 
Rending the rock-girt hills, till from the depths there came 

Spirits that knew his name. 

Mary of Magdala [behind 

Immanuel ! Immanuel ! Give ear ! Give ear ! 
Tet lift your hearts^ ye people; lift them up from fear ^ 
That ye may know the glory of His love who conquer eth 
With joy the powers of death. 

Voices ^approaching behind 

May this thing be that we have wished and willed^ 
This prophecy whose singing we have stilled 
Within us^ lest it might not be fulfilled ? 

Mary 

In wondrous wise the Lord^ whom ye despise^ 
Is risen from the dead, 

Annas [z« the court 

Woman of sin. 
Thy mouth is full of blasphemy and lies, 

24 



Pilate 

Go, hale her in, 
Ye guards, and with her Annas ! 

\A pause. Annas^ wrathfully entering^ ap- 
proaches Pilate; Cat ap has follows him; 
and Mary stands waiting at the door, 

Annas 

Make an end 
Of schism in the city of our God. 

Caiaphas 
Pilate, alas ! why didst thou not amend 
The superscription nailed above the cross ? 

Annas 
" King of the Jews," forsooth ! 

Caiaphas 

With but the loss 
Of one least word, unshackled had we trod 
This worm of heresy beneath our feet. 

Pilate. 
I sealed the tomb. I set a guard to meet 
Those whom ye said would carry from the grave 
Him who was slain. Then 'spite of heresy 
Your power is safe. Laugh ! Let the woman rave. 
Crying, " He lives ! " Laugh ! May not all men see 
My seal upon the tomb ? 

Caiaphas 

'Tis broken. 
Annas 

Gone 
The body ! 

25 



Procla 
Woe upon thy life which shone, 
But three days since, with empire and with strength ; 
Woe, Pilate, woe ! 

Pilate 
The body gone? The guard, 
Sore wounded, Annas, overwhelmed at length 
By numbers, yielded ? 

Annas 

Nay, unscathed, unscarred. 
They yielded unto sleep, as one shall tell 
Who, waking, saw men roll away the stone 
From the tomb's mouth. 

Pilate 

Speak, guard,' ere I compel 
Fiercely thy speaking. 

Guard 

Pardon ; not alone 
Nay and not guiltily, but with the rest. 
Yielding to secret potions in the wine, 
I slumbered. 

Pilate 
Aye ! What then ? 

Caiaphas 

With dread oppressed 
He dares no more. Yet were his knowledge mine, 
I'd prove this woman one of them that broke 
Thy seal upon the stone. 

Pilate [to Mary 

Woman, how now \ 
Thus by the priest accused, what answerest thou ? 

26 



Mary 
Weeping I woke 
And with the day 
Arose and sought the solace of His tomb to pray ; 
And lo, before the tomb, the great stone rolled away, 

And where the Saviour's body lay. 
Marvellous radiance, wherein marvellously arrayed 
Were angels like the morning ; and they spake and said, 
"Lift up your eyes, 
And lift your hearts, and unafraid 
Greet ye the glory of His love who conquereth 
With joy the powers of death ! 
Rise up ! Arise ! 
Lift up your hearts, and undismayed 
Glorify Him whose glorious resurrection-voice 
Crieth aloud, 'Rejoice, rejoice. 
And let your hearts be glad ! ' " 

Pilate 
Risen ? The Nazarene ? 'Tis false ! She's mad, 
And madly raves ! 

Caiaphas 
Or wisely feigns to rave. 

Pilate 
What sayest thou ? 

Caiaphas 

That feigning shall not save 
Guilt from its punishment, nor free 
Vengeance to raise sedition against thee. 

Annas 
Wherefore hear thou the guards who, in the gray 
Of morning, saw her steal this body away. 

27 



Pilate 
Men of the guard, is this )^our witness ? 

Guards 

Yea! 
Pilate 
Of your own will ye say it ? 

[^ silence. Enter Longinus 

LONGINUS 

Pilate, nay ! 
These men have sold themselves. For silver and for gold 
They testify to that which Caiaphas hath told, 
Seeking with darkness to enfold 
Truth from thy sight. 

Caiaphas 
Soldier, thy words are over-bold. 
Longinus 
Nay, for the might 
Of truth is on me, crying as the angel cried, 
" Behold the living God whom thou hast crucified ! 

Deathless though he hath died, 
Living though He hath lain three days within the tomb, 
He, the Eternal, far above thine earthly gloom, 
Shall seal the nations' doom." 

Pilate 
He the Eternal ? Ah, if this be true. 
Ashes and dust shall bitterly bestrew 
My stricken . body ! 

Procla 
And thy soul shall rue 
This day forever ! 

28 



Mary 

Nay, turn, arise, 

Lift up your eyes, 
Lift up your hearts from sorrow, and rejoice ; 
For He is risen, and a trumpet voice 
Angelic rings out gladness through the realms of death. 

A Voice [outside 

Set on^ set on^ and slay ! 
Tea^ let the Roman slayer rue 
The day when sinfully he slew 
Him whose divinity we knew ! 

Caiaphas 

Pilate, if this be spread abroad, 
Thou shalt not easily defraud 
The rabble of their prey. 

Annas 

Oh, Pilate, list. 
Or hardly shall thy realm resist 
Their rising onslaught. List, and stop 
The flood of schism ere it top 
The very walls of Rome. 

The Rabble [outside 

Set on and slay ! 
To the Palace of Herod^ the house of the traitor^ 
There seize on the slayer and scourge him and stone him ! 
To Pilate^ to Pilate^ the false Procurator I 
Destroyer^ betrayer. Let no man bemoan him; 
But seize on the slayer^ and scourge him and stone him I 

29 



LoNGiNUS \_going out 

With swords and with bucklers meet them and quell them : 
To right and to left of you smite them and fell them ! 

The Rabble [outside 

Set on and slay ! Break through and crucify 
The slayer of our Lord ! 

Annas 

Swift, lest thou lie 
Crushed under foot. Hear ! hear ! and let her die 
Whose word alone gives life unto their wrath ! 

The Rabble \yet nearer 

Stand back ! Away^ away ! Block not the path 
Of vengeance ! 

LoNGiNUS [entering wounded 

Pilate, rise and flee 
Swiftly from hence. For wounded sore. 
Vanquished, disgraced — oh pardon me, 
Pilate ! — alas, I can no more ! [He falls dead 

Pilate [closing the eyes of Longinus 
Great soul of steel, strong, clarion-clear, 
And valiant as the morning . . . 

Guards [entering 

By their sheer 
Fury of madness, lo our legion's might 
Undone ! 

The Rabble [bursting in 

Seek Pilate ! Where is Pilate ? Smite ! 
Slay ! Stone ! Rend ! Crucify ! 

30 



Pilate 

Lo, here am I. 
Do with me what ye will. 

Procla 

Thou shalt not die ! 

The Rabble 
Revenge ! Revenge ! Thy blood shall purify 
Our souls of sin ! Arise and crucify 
The sinner ! 

Mary 
Saith the Lord your God, 
" Vengeance is mine ! '* 

An Elder 

Jehovah's rod 
Is in our hands. 

Mary 

His rod and sword 
Are sheathed and broken by the word 
Of Christ the Lord. 

A Voice in the Rabble 
Thou woman of Magdala, cease, 
Until our wrath and vengeance slay 
The slayer ! 

Mary 
Lo, with tears of peace 
Christ standeth gently in your way. 

The Rabble 
The Roman's blood shall satisfy 
Our vengeance ! Thou shalt not deny 
Us vengeance ! 

31 



Mary 

In His hollow tomb 
Let Jesus' resurrection joy allume 

Your hearts with praise, 
With praise to Him whose peace shall make your joy 

Without alloy 
Of sorrowing sadness in the latter days. 

Voices in the Rabble 
May this thing be that we have wished and willed, 
This prophecy whose singing we have stilled 
Within us, lest it might not be fulfilled ? 

Mary \_leading them out 

Yea, for Jehovah's rod and sword 
Are sheathed and broken by the word 
Of Christ the Lord. 

The Rabble 

[their voices fading in the distance 
Give praise ! Unto the risen Lord give praise ! 

Annas [to Pilate 

Praise thou the harlot's wondrous wiles ! 

Pilate 
Scoffer, begone ! Your blasphemy defiles 
Her holiness — and this pure agony 
Burning a soul no death consents to free ! 



32 



ACT III 

[^ score of years later ^ a snowy pasture in 
the Alps, To the right ^ a rude shelter ; at 
the hack^ a chapel perched high on a pine- 
clad mountain shoulder^ above which rises 
a cross-crowned peak. From an abyss to 
the left^ a path to the shelter ; from behind 
the shelter .^ a second path joining the first 
and climbing circuitously to the chapel. 
Overhead^ clouds lingering after a storm.^ 
whose thunder still echoes among the heights 

Women's Voices \outside 

With lightnings from His fiery quiver 

fehovah fills the world on high^ 
While bent in agony we shiver 
Beneath the sky. 
Then hear us^ saviour ; lest we die^ 
Hear and deliver. 

[Silence. A herdsman comes out from the 
shelter. Through rifts in the clouds.^ the 
sunlight shines on the ice of an aerial peak 

The Herdsman 
The lightnings o'er the glaciers gleaming, 

The thunders rolling on the blast, 

Through driven sleet the eagles screaming, 

All, all are past. 

And spring, beneath the snow, at last 

Stirs in her dreaming. 

33 



Men [passing in the background 
The fury of Jehovah's thunder, 

The raging of Jehovah's sword, 
Jehovah's wrath which smote asunder 
Worlds with a word. 
All, all are past, unseen, unheard, 
Melting in wonder. 

The Herdsman 

No more the hosts of cloudland quelling 

The sunlit glory of the day, 
No more the avalanches felling 

ClifFs where I stray } 
But spring in every new-born spray 
Of flowers upwelling ! 

Men and Women [entering the chapel 

Oh, miracle, whose praise shall never 
Wane while our gladness lingereth, 
Oh, miracle whose glories sever 
The bonds of death, 
Lo, rising in the spring-time's breath 
Christ lives forever ! 

[ The last of the men and women pass into 
the chapel. 

A Youth [from the abyss 

Sweet! Frail I 
As the flowers that pass^ 

Faint I Pale I 
Must she fall ^ alas^ 
In pain where her footsteps fail in the snow? [Appearing 

34 



Cold ! Still ! 
As the flowers that die, 

Stark ! Chill ! 
Must her body lie 
Where sunrays on glaciers glitter and glow ? 

The Herdsman 
Look ! When from heaven God's sunlight hails thee, 
Canst thou yet sorrow ? What pain assails thee ? 
The maid, thy maiden heart's delight. 
Suffers no harm ? 

The Youth 
Nay ; yonder in the shade 
Of death, a woman suffers while the light 
Of Heaven mocks her. 

A Voice \_from the abyss 

O give aid^ give aid ! 

The Youth 
His voice who staggers bearing her ! Ah where 
Tarries the hermit whose unearthly face 
Alone may bring her peace ? 

The Herdsman 

Yonder, whence prayer 
Wings its way ever to the eternal grace 
Of God. 

The Youth 
Thither I go. ^^xit 

The Voice 

Jh^ lest she perish^ 
Hasten to aid me ! 

35 



The Herdsman ^going toward the abyss 
Fear not, I am here, 
Strong armed, and warm of heart. 

^Coming up out of the abyss a wanderer meets 
him^ a woman^ unconscious^ in his arms 

The Wanderer 

Give heed, I cherish 
This woman more than dire remorse holds dear 
Pardon denied the sin which gave it birth. 
Give heed. Oh, lift her lightly. She hath borne 
Torment for my sake. Driven o'er the earth, 
Athirst and footsore, bleeding, fainting, torn. 
Her body near to death, her tender soul 
Seared by the fire of my eternal guilt. 
Thus, thus tormented, she hath faced the roll 
E'en of Jehovah's thunder. 

The Herdsman 

^bringing her to the shelter 
An' thou wilt. 
Sunlit at last, here shall she rest. 

The Wanderer 

At last ? 
Not everlastingly ! 

The Herdsman 
Nay, for the dawn 
Rose-tints the snow-fields' pallor ne'er so fast 
As life mounts to her warmed cheek. 

The Wanderer 

Ah, gone. 
Yea, loosed and gone from her is the ghastly hold 

36 



Of death ! She lives ! She lives again ! O God, 
O'erwhelming in thy mercy as thou art cold 
Relentlessly in wrath, raise from the sod 
Of my lost spirit adoring flowers of prayer. 
Or like a desert waterless and dumb 
My soul must lie forever bleak and bare 
And dead as the icy air ! 

The Herdsman 

Oh, dark and numb. 
Oh, wintry-spirited strange wanderer. 
What doom is thine that suppliant words of praise 
Spring to thy lips no more ? 

The Wanderer 

Ask not, nor stir 
Embers of agony. 

The Herdsman 

Lifeless are all thy ways ? 
Lost is thy lot ? 

The Wanderer 
Lifeless and lost ; for lo, long since was I accurst. 
Yea damned and vengeance-ridden, so that no man durst 

In mercy quench my thirst. 
And o'er me as I wandered ever, year by year. 
Through burning waste, by bitter stream and mere, 

Horror hung huge and drear. 

The Herdsman 
Hope knew thee not ? 
The Wanderer 
Hope whispered, once ! Yea, in the region of the Rhone, 

37 



Aloft where, in a mountain cave, the rill Huveaune 

Falls singing from a stone, 
There, robed in all the golden flowing of her hair. 
One from Magdala, weeping, brought my soul's despair 

Tears and the hope of prayer. 

The Herdsman 

One from Magdala ? She whom God forgave ? 
And thou ? Who art thou ? 

The Wanderer 

He whom naught can save. 
For on a time there stood before me, pure and mild. 
One goaded, rent and spat upon, though as a child 

Tender and undefiled. 
And Him I yielded to the Jews to crucify ; 
And Him they nailed upon a cross and raised on high 

In agony to die. 

And lo, men railed ! 
Only a malefactor on the Saviour's right 
Knew Him and worshipped Him and sought the blessed light 

Of pardon in His sight. 
But when, a little after, with a broken sigh, 
He gave His spirit up with yearning to the sky, 

Ah then, with many a cry 
Of dread, men quailed ! 
Ghastly with dread they smote upon their breasts and wept, 
And over all things living a great darkness crept. 

And through the darkness leapt. 
Earthward from heaven, unceasing cataracts of flame. 
Rending the rock-girt hills, till from the depths there came 

Spirits that knew His name. 

38 



The Herdsman 
Immanuel ? 

The Wanderer 
Soft ! Soft ! This woman sighs. 
The Herdsman 
" God with us " ? 

The Wanderer 
Oh, be silent ! for her eyes 
Unopened tremble with the light of tears. 

The Herdsman 
The Saviour, Christ ? 

\_Jt these words the unknown woman^ who 
is Procla^ wakes 

Procla 

Inrushing fears, 
Pilate, sweep over me. 

The Herdsman 

Thou, thou art he, 
Pilate the pagan whose damnation brought 
Death unto God ? 

Procla 

[/<? the wanderer^ who is Pilate 
Ah ! bending over me. 
Lost soul, cling close to me, thus ! Let my thought 
Lose lovingly the baleful dreams of fire 
That linger in my thirst ! 

Pilate 

Swift, with a cup 
Of water, cool her fevered lips' desire ! 
I pray thee, in His name ! 

39 



The Herdsman 

Pilate, rise up ; 
Blaspheme not ; but in silence through the snow 
Retrace thy bleeding footsteps. 

Pilate 

Nay, from hence 
I cannot while such pangs of bodily woe 
Still hold this woman prone. 

The Herdsman 

Hell's recompense 
Waits on thy tarrying ! 

Procla 
Alas, not yet ! 
In mercy on the parting of my soul, 
Oh, drive him not yet onward ! 

The Herdsman 

Though the sweat 
Of death be on thy brow, still like a coal 
Of fire my fury against the slayer of God 
Must flame in the winds of heaven ! 

Procla 

Oh, let me quench 
Thy wrath in tears, tears for the period 
When Pilate in his torment . . . 

The Herdsman 

Silence, wench : 
Plead not for Pilate ; for each word but warps 
My soul from mercy, bending it with power 
To crush the sooner from a loathed corpse 
All breath ! 

40 



Procla [to Pilate 

Begone, begone ! the avenging hour 
Storms hard upon thee. Oh, begone ! away ! 
Bide not for parting ! flee ! 

Pilate 

With thee I stay. 

The Herdsman 
Begone, begone ! I may not not be enticed 
Further to mercy. Body and soul thou'rt banned 
Beyond redemption ; for thy merciless hand 
Is red as sundown with the blood of Christ ! 

Pilate 
Yea, stained with the blood of Christ am I ; 
And banned beyond redemption is my soul. 
Though mockingly your bells of death should toll 
Sweet comfort for the bodily pains that die. 

[The bells of the chapel toll 
So be it : prone beneath Jehovah's will 
Let me endure eternal punishment. 
If this pure soul of snow and sunlight blent 
May first in peace her vanishing life fulfill. 

The Youth 

[coming with a hermit from the chapel 
Lost, lone, 
Must her spirit fly. 
Blast-blown, 
Through an angry sky 
Whose whirlwinds with crimson cover the sun 

[fThe hells continue tolling 
41. 



Racked, worn, 
Must her sad soul fare, 

Doubt-torn, 
Through the lonely air. 
Bemoaning in vain that love's ways are undone ? 

Pilate 
Oh, list, and let me clasp 
In these mine arms thy knees. 

The Herdsman 
Cease, lest with force I seize 
Thy throat within my grasp ! 

Pilate 
Nay, from thy feet I may not stir 
Until God's grace is granted her. 
Whose peace is all my prayer. 

The Herdsman 

\_iaking him by the throat 
Enough ! 
Thus, Pilate, art thou answered, asking grace 
Falsely for thine accomplice when rebuff. 
Following rebuff, hath brought to naught thy base 
Rebellion against justice. 

Pilate 

[struggling to hisfeet^ while Procla^ with 
a cry ^ falls prostrate 
Rome defies 
Justice that sears an innocent woman's eyes 
With sights of horror when, alas, she lies 
Dying ! 

42 



The Herdsman \_/ordng Pilate to earth 
Dead Rome's defiance avails thee not 
Against the Omnipotent whose strength begot 
Thy judge ! 

Pilate 
The lord of love ? 

\_He falls. The bells cease tolling. A pause. 
The youth draws near with the hermit 

The Youth 

Wild herdsman, what — 
O speak ! — what in thy madness hast thou done ? 

The Herdsman 
Unto Jehovah have I sacrificed 
The self-confessed destroyer of Jesus Christ. 

The Hermit 
Bow thyself down in penitence, my son. 

The Herdsman 
God's death have I avenged. 

The Hermit 

Alas, the more 
Bow thyself down in penitence before 
The all-forgiving and all-merciful, 
The Lord of love. 

The Herdsman \_falUng on his knees 
Christ, whom my tears adore, 
Have I forsaken thee ? Ah, let no lull 
Of comfort still the storming of my soul, 
Then, till thou'rt glad ! 

43 



The Hermit 

Poor lover of God's might, 
Entombed and sightless as the burrowing mole, 
Yet shall thine eyes be opened to the light 
Of Heaven. 

Pilate ^stirring 

The light of Heaven ? 

The Youth 

He wakes, he wakes ; 
And o'er my soul the golden daylight breaks 
Joyous and clear! 

Pilate 
Alas, unreconciled. 
Unreconciled, though silently he smiled 
Forgiveness upon them that hated him ! 
For I, with spiritual eyes made dim. 
Saw him and knew him not, but in my blindness 
Scourged him and slew him ! 

The Hermit 

Yet with loving kindness 
For thee, as for all suffering souls below, 
He looketh down upon thee, soul of woe ; 
And pitifully, through his tears that flow 
For thine atoning years of torment, lo. 
He smiles. 

Pilate 
Celestial Lord, oh, is it Thou 
Smiling miraculously on me now ? 

The Hermit 
A branch am I of the eternal Vine. 



Pilate 
Jesus of Nazareth, whose bleeding brow- 
Was crowned with thorns, whose side and feet and hands 
Were pierced upon the cross, through my commands. . . . 

\The light of sunset breaks through the 
clouds^ showing the stigmata on the her- 
mit* s outstretched hands 

The Hermit 
Through love these wondrous wounds indeed are mine. . . . 

Pilate 
Thou God of suffering and of love, endow 
My soul with death, hers with thy life divine ! 

The Hermit 
Through suffering and through love her soul and thine, 
Unsevered in the shadows of the abyss. 
Shall dwell forever in the illumined bliss 
Of him whose sorrow seals thee with a sign 
Of passion thus \>^~\ transfigured with a kiss. 

Pilate 
Lord of the burning pyre, 
Of love and ire 
Aerial, 
Lord of the soul's desire. 
Spirit of fire 

Etherial, 
Vengeance-blighted, 
Wrath affrighted. 
Yet may we rise and rest in thee ? 

45 



The Youth 
Passion-blighted, 
Death-united, 
Oh, raise them up in ecstacy ! 

The Hermit 
In death forever shall their souls be free. 
The Herdsman 
Lord of the world, in mercy number 
Moments that sever from the blest 
All whom the woes of earth encumber. 

The Youth 
Saviour, invest 
Their souls with the celestial rest 
That soothes thy slumber. 

Pilate 
Procla, since He hath kissed my brow — oh, wake 
And hear ! — angels are singing for thy sake. 

Pilgrims 
[emerging from the chapel and wending 
their way higher. 
Through vale to vale and icy hollow. 
By knoll to bitter knoll and bleak. 
Storm-driven with the soaring swallow 
From peak to peak. 
Thy footsteps in the snow we seek 
And find and follow. 

\^The sun^ as it sets^ breaks through the 
clouds and lights dazzingly the cross- 
crowned ?nountain. 

46 



Pilate 

^staggering^ with Procla^ to his feet 
Procla, the peak ! Lift up thine eyes and see 
Aloft the cross-crowned peak of Calvary ! 

The Hermit 

[supporting Pilate as he falls 
Wild outcast from the world, in peace at last, 
Thy calvary is past ! 

The Pilgrims 
Lord, whose unearthly hours inspire 

Our souls with love, raise up the dim 
Flame of our praise where in the choir 
Of cherubim. 
Seraphs, fulfill our earthly hymn 
With lute and lyre. 

PiLT^TE \very faintly 

On clouds of gold as on a sea 

Celestial and supernal. 
By love delivered, blissfully 

We float with thee, eternal 
Lord of the burning pyre 
Of love and ire 
Aerial, 
Lord of the soul's desire, 
Spirit of fire 

Etherial . . . 

\_Pilate sinks dead upon the snow 



47 



SAINT RONAN OF BRITTANT 
A MIRACLE PLAT 



To 
Edward Burlingame Hill 



SAINT RONAN OF BRITTANY 

\_In a Breton forest^ a dell before a ledge^ on 
the face of which ^ beside the entrance to a 
cave^ a cross is carved. Below the cross and 
carved also in the rock^ an image of the Vir- 
gin stands in a rude niche 

Yann \hastening toward the cave 
Ah, Ronan ! Ronan, wondrous one, 
Before the awful deed be done. 
Arise and succor and defend ! 
Rise up and save my child ! Ah, friend, 
Arise and battle for his life, 
Yea, battle with the dark Keben, 
The fearful druidess, my wife. 
For lo, she slayeth him that men, 
Believing thee the slayer, shall slay 
Thee, sweet Saint Ronan, light of all my day. 

Ronan \_from the cave 

Do thou defend the child ! 

Yann 
With words both fierce and mild 
Did I defend the child 

Yea, and with deeds. 
But round about him she hath cast a spell ; 
And the spell hideth him that none may tell 
'Tis she that doeth the behest of hell. 

Ronan 
So be it. Count thy beads. 
Yann 
Nay, for His sake who on the cross hath bled . . . 

51 



RONAN 

Be still. The child is dead. 

Yann [^staggering 

Dead ? Dead indeed ? The spirit fled ? 
The tender body . . . 

Keben [/rom the woods 

Lifeless I Dead ! 
Yann 
Ronan beloved, flee ! 
And I will stay 
And to our Maiden Mother pray 
For thee 
And me. 

Keben \_comingfrom among the trees 
Stand back ; ye Breton men. 
Yann 
Keben . . . 
Keben 
Aha, my Yann ? — Fear not. Thou art dear to me. 
Flesh of my flesh art thou ; my little son. 
On whom the murderous Ronan's will was done, 
Is thine and dear to thee. 
Then judge me not ! I hid the boy 
That gladly and in gallant joy 
His eager eyes might see 
The rising and the setting of the sun 
On many a heart and many a battle won 
In later years. 
Alas, my tears 

52 



Have wet those sealed eyes of his 

Once and again, 

My burning kiss 
Hath met those icy lips of his, 

In vain, in vain ! 

Yann 
Almost do I believe thee. 

Keben 
Then dear one leave, ah leave me ! 
For it behooves not that thy soul should know 
My vengeance. Go, ah go ! 
Thou shouldst not see 
"What now must surely be. 

Yann 
Keben . . . 

Keben 

As rust 
Upon a sword that rules the world, 
Shall weakness dull my wrath ? 

Yann 
Nay hear . . . 

Keben 

As dust 
Before a storm, thy words are whirled 

Helpless along my path ! 
But hear thou me. His hands are red. 
Red are his hands with blood of ours ; 
Heavy his heart and black as lead. 
Black the fell heart that guilt devours. 
Yet were his heart serene and bright, 

53 



And were his hands made clean and white. 
Still by our lusty Breton might, 
Still for the ancient Druid rite. 
Still should he die ! 

Yann 

Alas, 
While every blade of grass 

Whispereth praise. 
While every rivulet 

Singeth his ways, 
Still must thine anger fret 

His peaceful days ? 
Still must thine ill desire. 
Fierce as the heaven's fire. 

Thunder and roll. 
Torturing, with oaths that wring, 
Lashing, with spells that sting. 

His placid soul ? 

Keben [in dark incantation 

Soul of the crested wave. 
Soul of the whispering grass, 

Soul of the breeze, 
Souls of the forest trees. 
Souls of the dead that pass, 
Hither to save ! 
Hither, ah hither. 

To slay and to save ! 

Druids \_among the trees 

They haste ; they are with her 
To slay and to save I 

54 



Keben 
They come, they come : their strength is mine ! 

Druids 
They come^ they come : their strength is thine ! 
Yann 
Steel-hearted Druidess, 
Fateful enchanteress 

Turn from thine art ! 
Leader of sprites and men. 
Wildest of wives, Keben, 
Cease and depart ! 

Keben 
Silence, for he shall die ! 

\_Ronan^ a halo of celestial light about his 
head^ appears in the mouth of his cave^ he- 
hind the spider* sw eh. Yann falls on his knees 

RONAN 

'Tis I. 
Be not afraid. 

Druids 

\_coming a few at a time from among the trees 

Hath this man killed the child ? 
He seemeth pure and undefiled 
As any maid. 

A Druidess 
Rays of celestial light 
Circle his face, serene and bright 
And unafraid ! 

55 



Yann 
Behold the spirits sing, 

Hearing his voice. 
Doth not thy heart rejoice, 

Knowing him mild 
And pure and undefiled ? 

Keben 
Hath he not slain thy child ? 

Yann 
He hath not slain my child. 

Keben [z« scornful triumph 

Then say, where is the child ? 

Ron AN [ethereally 

List ! floating through the heavenly air 
The liquid note of harps that bear 
Eternal joy to them that fare 

Through realms ethereal. 
While angel voices, clear and rare, 
Sing songs of welcome to us there 
Where dwelleth now, so far and fair, 

The child aerial. 

Yann 
Thanks be to God, his soul doth fare 

Through realms ethereal ! 
But where — ah Ronan, say thou where — 
Lieth that body pale and fair. 
That face all aureoled in golden hair? 

Ronan [/'« deeper tones 

Hark ! on the quivering wind a sound of woe ; 

56 



The sobbing melody of tears that flow, 

The stifled agony of them that sow 

Darkness and torment here below, 
While through the fearful darkness visions glare and glow. 
Revealing in the cavern where the four winds blow 
A blood-stained silent Druidess that doth bestow 

A bleeding body in the earth below. ^J pause 

Keben 
Ronan, mine eyes 
Shall look upon thee dead. 
For though men call thee very wise 

Thy tongue hath said 
What now, deny it an thou wilt, 

Putteth on thee the guilt. \_to the Druids 

Alone he knew 
Where the child lay. 
Then judge, ye Bretons, judge and say. 
Is it not he that slew 
Mine only son ? 

Druids 

Lo, of us all not one 
Hath known what Ronan knew. 
Therefore 'tis Ronan slew 
Thine only son. 

Keben 
\_dashing forward and cutting at the web 
Leap, knife ! 
And thou shalt taste of blood and strife ! 

Reap, knife ! 
Yea, leap and garner death from life ! 

[The blade falls shattered to the ground 

S7 



The web is steel ! 

I feel 
The magic mesh 
Deep in my flesh ! 
I reel ! 
Ye spirits, ere I fall, 
Oh hear my call ! 

Yann 
A miracle ! 

Kneel, Bretons, kneel ! 
A miracle ! A miracle ! 

[^Ronan advances through the weh^ his hands 
outstretched over the kneeling Druids. A 
pause. Keben rises^ the broken knife in her 
hands 

Keben 
Oh broken blade, 
Yet shall thy word be weighed. 

[^Striding forward 
Deluded cowards, raise your eyes! 

By magic ye are blinded ! 
Ye spell-bound Bretons, wake, arise ! 
Arise like Druids of the days of old. 
Rise free in spirit, valiant minded. 
Strong and bold ! 
Nay, have no fear, 
But hear; 
For lo, 
A token : 
This blade, 
Strong as the tides that flow 

58 



And ebb, 
This blade 
By Druids made, 
Now broken. 
Broken against a spider's web ! 
Yet as a child's last breath 
Is weak and faint 
In death, 
E'en so. 
Before your " saint," 
This magic web was weak ! 
Ah, will ye stand forever meek 
Before a sorcerer ? 
Nay turn, and once again 
Think ye of her, 
Keben, 
Of whose sweet child behold the murderer ! 

Yann 
Sweet Ronan, speak ! deny ! 

RONAN 

Ye Breton men, 
Hither before Keben 
Bear the frail body of her child. [They hesitate 

Keben 
In Ronan' s sight 
Hither, ye men of might. 
Bring the fair body of my child ! [They go out 

Ronan 
Ere the end I entreat and beseech thee. 
Oh, Keben, 

59 



To repent and let gentleness teach thee 

Once again. 
Thou hast plotted against me to slay me ; 

Oh, Keben, 
In all blessedness would I array thee 

Once again. [^Kneeling at her feet 

For thy soul's sake, Keben, I entreat thee 

Turn and pray 
That Christ in his mercy may greet thee 

On His day. 

Keben ^in solemn gloom 

Ronan, my forest ways 

Lie far from thine : 
Thine are a shining maze ; 

Simple are mine. 
Perchance my ways must wane 

While thine increase. 
Then have my deeds been vain, 
And life must cease. 
Yet as the ancient dead believed 

Have I believed ; 
For their sake have I sinned and grieved 
And still must grieve. 

Then hear, ye powers of earth and air. 

Hear while I swear : 
By your deep souls, ye crested waves ; 

By yours, oh whispering grass ; 
By your dark souls, oh silent graves ; 

By yours, ye dead that pass ; 
Ere the soft moon again shall shine 
Ronan's red blood or mine 
Shall feed the dust. 

60 



Yann 
Ronan, alas thou art undone ! 

RONAN 

Fear not ; the Lord thy God is very just. 

A Voice [far off 

Poor little one I 

Yann 
Hark ! Hark ! 

The Voice 
Mas ! all stark 
And cold! 

Voices \^far off 

Lift him up tenderly ; 

Now as of old^ 
Lay lightly over him 
Garlands of flowers. 

Lift him up tenderly ; 

Tea^ as of old 
Let garlands cover him^ 
Garlands of flowers. 

\Funeral music is heard, Keben stands tense- 
ly still; Ronan remains motionless in prayer 

The Voices \approaching 

With loving gentleness^ 

Now as in life^ 
Lift him and carry him 
On^ yet in sorrow^ 

6i 



While loving gentleness^ 
Learnt in our life^ 
Bears him and carries him 
Far from our sorrow, 

\_The music continues. Carrying the body on 
a bier made of branches.^ the Druids enter 

Druids 
Tenderly, tenderly, 

Lay him to rest ; 
Lift up from over him 
Garlands that cover him. 
Garlands of flowers. 

\T^he child^s face is uncovered. Tann falls 
on his knees beside the bier, Keben remains 
motionless 

RONAN 

Child, in His name 
Who died to give us life, 
I charge thee, rise. 

The Child [rising 

Mine eyes 
Dazzle . . . 

Druids 
Oh praise, oh praise and fame 
To Him who died to give us life. 

Keben 

[in a whisper to one of the Druids 
Swift, an thou lovest me, give here thy knife ! 
62 



Druids 
To him who died to give us life, 
Oh praise, yea endless praise and fame ! 

The Child 
Methought I dwelt 
Where heavenly angels sing 
Eternally to God. 

[Tann kisses the child's garment and his 
hands 

RoNAN 
While in thine ears angelic voices ring, 
Keben, Keben, oh let thine anger melt. 
Stand not forever cold and still. 
For Jesus' sake, 
Oh let thy will 
Bend ere it break 
Beneath His rod ! 

Keben 
Nay, Ronan, I have sworn ; 
And though my soul be torn 
In twain. 
Now once again 
By all the powers of Earth and Air, 
Yea, by the Night I swear . . . 

Ronan 

Be still. 
If the Lord will 

Shall I 
Not gladly die ? 

63 



Yet must His truth prevail. [Td? the child 

Wherefore, oh thou for whom the veil 
Of Heaven vv^as rent asunder, 
Thou who hast seen eternal day 
And heard God*s wrathful thunder. 
Speak thou and say — 
Yea, though in pain — 
By whom wast slain ? 

The Child 

i\las, my mother ! 

\H.e falls sobbing on the neck of Tann who 
lifts him in his arms 

Keben 

I and none other ! \a fateful pause 

Oh, dear my son, 
In agony I slew thee, 
That those thy friends that knew thee 
Might rise and slay 
This wondrous one 
Who slayeth all things past and good. 

Yea, Ronan, in the sacred wood, 

Alas, my ways 

Lay far from thine. 
Thine were a shining maze. 

Darkened were mine. 
Now, while thy ways increase, 

My ways must wane : [stabbing herself 
Yea, since my deeds were vain. 

Life now must cease. \_She dies 

64 



RONAN 

Tenderly, tenderly, 
Now as of old, 
Let oak leaves cover her. 
Oak leaves and flowers. 

Druids \_lifting her body 

Lift her up tenderly 
Now as of old. 
Let oak leaves cover her, 
Oak leaves and flowers. 

RoNAN 
Onward with gentleness. 

Soft as a breath, 
Bear her and carry her 
Forth from her sorrow. 

Druids 

Onward with gentleness, 

Onward in death, 
Bear her and carry her 
Forth from her sorrow. 

[They disappear among the trees 



6s 



THEOPHILE 

A MIRACLE PLAT 



Copyright 1898 by 

Small, Maynard & Company 

Reprinted by permission 



Richard C, Cabot 



THEOPHILE 

\The garden of an ahhey. To the left^ a shrine 
to Saint fohn. At the hack^ shaded by trees^ 
an ancient well 

Theophile \_singing outside 

Sir Guy the strongs Sir Guy the bold,. 

Sir Guy whose soul shall never die^ 
Lay dead within his coffin bark^ 
And fared with gifts of beaten gold 

Toward Aries where he was fain to lie. 

But while a heaven-assaulting lark 

Sang gaily o'er the blessed Rhone,, 
Three robbers waiting on the shore^ 
Men cursed with Cain^s unholy mark^ 

Sei%ed on the knight who fared alone. 

They saw and siezed the gold he bore^ 
Then cast him loose to drift from sight. 
He tarried sternly,, fixed and cold ; 

And angels smote the robbers sore,, 
And rescued all his offerings bright. 

So strong Sir Guy,, Sir Guy the bold,, 

Sir Guy whose soul shall never die,, 
Fared safe within his coffin bark,, 
Fared safe with all his gifts of gold 

To Aries where he was fain to lie. 

\_Entering,, in a monk's robe of white 

Sooth, 'twas a goodly miracle, 
Proving Our Lady's power full well. 

71 



Praise always to Her holy name. 

And now what song ? Again the same ? 

Sir Guy the strongs Sir Guy the bold^ 
Sir Guy whose soul shall never die — 

[Enter the abbot ^ Eusebe 

EUSEBE 

Silence, blasphemer ! Silence, treacherous one ! 

Theophile 

By God on high ! [Restraining himself 

Sweet Mother, aid thy son ! 

Eusebe 
Hold ! Theophile, an thou dost love thy soul. 
Call not on Heaven, lest eternal dole 
O'erwhelm thee in thy black impenitence. 

Theophile 
Lord Abbot, in a moment's indolence 
I sang, 'tis true, but a right holy song. 
Proving — 

Eusebe 
Think not to prove I do thee wrong. 
I chide thee not for slight or seeming sin. 
But damn thee, knowing thou hast sought to win 
Infernal power from this Salatin, 
Whose mighty sorcery — 

Theophile [aside 

Ah, Mathurin ! 
I see thy cunning and perfidious wiles ! [Aloud 

Lord Abbot, trust not Mathurin's false smiles 
And sugared words and sanctimonius sighs — 

72 



EUSEBE 

Ha ! What of him ? 

Theophile 

In deviltry he's wise : 
And knowing that I know — what I do know, 
He first accuseth me ! Is it not so ? 

EuSEBE 

In vain dost thou impute to him thine evil thought, 
For gentle Mathurin accuseth thee of nought ! 
Nay, in mute suffering memory he hid thy guilt 
Even from God until his soul began to wilt 
And utterly to wither in thy sin's fell heat. 
Then, thrusting from him even innocent deceit. 
Poor Mathurin did yield the knowledge of thy deeds 
Unto the Virgin, telling all the while his beads, 
And begging with such fervor thine escape from Hell 
That I did hear him even in my distant cell ! 

Theophile 

Ye holy saints, may these things be — 
Such craft, such deep duplicity — 

In this our world ? 
Ah, sweet Saint John, give ear to me ! 
In Satan's pit right hastily 

Let him be hurled ! 

EuSEBE 

Mad sinner, cease from raving. Listen silently. 
I know that thou didst steal from the great treasury 
The five tall golden goblets gone since Easter-morn. 
Ah, better were 't for thee if thou hadst ne'er been born ! 

73 



Theophile 
Is, then, my service, high in trust, 
No weightier than mere breeze-blown dust ? 

EUSEBE 

Give here the keys ! 
Theophile 
Is my true steel so dark with rust 
That, for a liar's word, I must 

Surrender these ? 

Eusebe [taking the keys 

Yea, and thy greater sins wait greater punishment. 
For lustful crimes unspeakable thou shalt repent. 

Theophile {kneeling 

Ah, Blessed Lady, sweet and fair. 
Dear flower-like Virgin, hear my prayer, 
And beg from God a wonder-sign 
Proving that I am wholly thine. 

Eusebe 
Despite this artful blasphemy I know thou art 
Rebellious to Our Lady, cold, and black of heart, 
A thief and lecherous, and eke a sorcerer. 
Profaning to Hell's service service due to Her. 

Theophile [singing 

^^ Agios veris ros^ 
Maiflos^ audi nos / " 

Eusebe 
\jei%ing the Rosary from TheophiU s hands 
Wherefore, fell Theophile, begone ! I cast thee forth 

74 



From out the fellowship of Saint Bernard. Go North, 
Go South, I reck not where ; but flee for aye this place. 
Yea, flee till thou hast met Our Lady face to face. 

\_Exit Eusebe 
Theophile 
Beloved Virgin, praise be to Thy name, ]^kissing his medal 
And glory and eternal heavenly fame, 
And my poor humble thanks that Thou hast made 
Petition for me. 

^Enter Salatin^ a great hook in his ha?ids 

Salatin [aside 

Theophile ! Arrayed 
In such disorder ! 

Theophile 
Still she prays, I wot, 
For my salvation. Yet He hears Her not ! 
Ah, cold, high God, silent, implacable. 
Wilt Thou not grant Christ's mother a miracle ? 
Canst Thou refuse Her ? God, She kneels to Thee ! 

\Going to the shrine of Saint 'John 
Saint John, ah, good Saint John, may this thing be ? 
Johannes^ 
*'*' Miser ere mei et exaudi orationem meam ! " 
Johannes ! Johannes ! 
Behold, God heedeth not Our Lady's word ! 
Oh, pluck Him by the robe ! 

Salatin "[aside 

I '11 blight Christ's herd, 
I '11 seize this lamb, if I am Salatin ! 

Theophile [to Saint John 

Thou wilt not ? Then thou 'rt like to Mathurin ? 

75 



Yea, John is joined unto mine enemy, [turning away 

And God Himself doth aid their enmity ! 

Ah, Thine injustice passeth tolerance! 

Thou sendest me to wander throughout France 

All penniless despite my trusty zeal 

In serving Thy great servant — 

Salatin 

Theophile ! 
Ho, Theophile ! What ails thee ? 

Theophile \not hearing 

Noxious snakes 
Lisp out false charges, and the Abbot shakes 
Condemning fingers in my face ! 

Salatin 

What ho ! 
My God, what anger ! Soft, friend, soft and slow. 
What ails thee ? Speak ! Mayhap with my poor aid — 

Theophile 
Who art thou ? 

Salatin 
Look, a friend. Be not dismayed. 
I love thee very sweet, kind sir. Speak, then : 
Tell me thy griefs. 

Theophile 

I ruled an hundred men, 

The abbey serfs ; I held the treasure-keys ; 

I paid out moneys, gathered all due fees 

Even to-day, as during many years. 

For my lord Abbot — 

76 



Salatin 

My prophetic fears ! 
Thou art not dispossessed ? 

Theophile 

Yea, dispossessed. 
And driven forth, goaded, harassed, distressed 
Alike by men and Saints and God the King. 
And though, more sweetly than the angels sing. 
Our Lady prayed for me, God heeded not ; 
And cursed John laughed loudly at my lot 
When, in the vulgar and the sacred tongue, 
I prayed his grace ! Ah, could I but have flung 
A gauntlet in his teeth ! For I am done 
With sufferance ! Since God and Saints are one 
In enmity against me, I '11 wage war. 
Dread war, against their host. 

Salatin 

Soft, soft ! Thou 'It mar 
Thy sure success ! — 'Tis sure ? Thou 'rt well prepared ? 

Theophile 

Alas, God hideth where no man hath fared. 
There, throned above the clouds, and neither spear 
Nor winged shaft can find him. \_Shaking his fist 

Were He near — 

Salatin 

Beware His lightnings, friend ! 

Theophile 

I scorn their power ! 

77 



Salatin 
Submit to God before the fatal hour 
When — 

Theophile 
Never unto Him ! Behold, kind sir. 
Our Lady knelt and prayed. He looked on Her 
And turned away. Ah ! verily, my blood 
Boils when I think on 't ! 

Salatin 

Stay ! In mire and mud 
He'll trample thee beneath His feet, if thus. 
Alone, thou assailest Him. But join with us, 
With me, sweet Theophile, and with my Lord, 
And thou shalt conquer, gaining a great hoard 
Of treasure, wide fair lands and many a slave. 
Abbots shall do thy bidding : thou shalt pave 
Thy palace-courts with gold. • 

Theophile 

But tell me, friend, 
Shall God's fell tyranny come to an end 
In all the wondrous worlds ? 

Salatin 

Yea, grievous shame. 
Thou, Theophile, shalt bring upon his name ; 
And thou shalt grow in conquering glorious might. 
And rule the powers of day and darkling night. 
Yea, thou shalt be well-nigh omnipotent. 
If thou wilt serve a king who is content 
To lend thee aid. 

Theophile 
Then bring me unto him. 

78 



Gladly I'll swear him fealty. Yea, each whim 
Of his shall be my law. Swift, swift, I pray. 
Bring me to him. 

Salatin 
Be still ; here is the way. 
Thou seest yonder shaded mossy well, 
Digged during ages when this gentle dell 
Rang with the laughter of a water-sprite. 
And echoed with the wildest faun's delight ? 
There, when aloud strange magic words I cry, 
A form doth rise — 

Theophile 
'Tis Satan ? 

Salatin 

Yea, and I 
Am Salatin ! Aha, thou fearest me ? — 
Fear not, dear friend, I bear but love toward thee. 
And my great lord is enemy to God, 
That evil God who gleefully hath trod 
Thee, thee His faithful servant, under foot. 

Theophile 
Enough, good Salatin, enough; I'll put 
My hands between his hands : I'll be his man ! 

Salatin 
Right bravely said. Thou fearest not the ban 
Of Abbot or of Bishop or of Pope. 

Theophile 
Not if thy power shall now fulfill my hope ! 

79 



Salatin 

[^Placing his open book upon a stone^ and 
drawing on the ground before it 

So. Stand thou here, friend Theophile, 
Until I call thee here to kneel 

Before the king. 
Watch how with mystic signs I deal : 
Behold how stilly I must steal 
Within the ring. 
\_Kneeling before the book and pointing with 
a wand toward the homes of the four winds 
Bagahi baca bacahe^ 
Lamac cahi acabahe^ 
Karrelyos. 

[^ great wind rages among the trees 

Theophile 
Salatin, dost thou not hear 
An angel crying in great fear, 
"Z)^ profundis clamavi ad te^ Domine^^ ? 

Salatin 
The voice will cease. 
Lamac lamec bachalyos^ 
Cabahagi sabalyos^ 

Baryolos. 

[There is a great noise of thunder 

Theophile 
The voice now draweth very near 
And singeth gently in mine ear, 
"£/ ipse redimet Israel^ ex omnibus iniquitatibus ejus" 

80 



Salatin 
Sss ! Hold thy peace ! 

Lagazatha cabyolas^ 
Samahac et famyolas^ 
Harrahya ! 
\Red fire flares upward from the well. In 
the midst of it Satan rises^ trident in hand 

Satan 
Ho ! Black thunderous damnation ! 
Why this Hebrew incantation ? 
Hi ! Is this thine adulation ? 
Worship me, weak Salatin ! 

Theophile 
Strange ! He's like to Mathurin. 
Salatin 
Kindest Satan, 
Blessed Satan, 
Let me greet thy Majesty ! 
Mighty Satan, 
Glorious Satan, 
Grant me — 

Satan 
Sss ! Whom do I see ? 

Theophile 
Theophile. 

Satan 
Mine enemy ! 
Salatin 
Master, dark adversity 
8i 



Maketh him thy willing friend. 

Theophile 
Yea, to thee I'll gladly bend, 
If against the King on High 
Thou wilt aid me. 

Satan 
That will I ! 
By my hate of Heaven's Lord, 
Verily my flaming sword 
Waits thy pleasure — 'S death ! Ha ! Sss ! 
Salatin ! 

Salatin 
Lord, what's amiss ? 

Satan 
Ah, slave, thou hast betrayed me with a kiss ! 
He's still mine enemy. Ho, devils, tss ! 
Hi, Salatin, but thou shalt roast for this ; 
Yea, thou shalt sputter on the spit and hiss ! 

Salatin 
Oh, kindest Satan, blessed — 

Theophile 

Hold ! He's true ! 
And thine injustice thou shalt dearly rue 
If thou shalt dare to damn him, innocent. 

Salatin 
A saint I bring thee, cast forth indigent. 
Despised, rejected, and condemned of God, 
His master's Master. 

82 



Theophile 

Yea, my feet had trod 
The blood-stained rocks of exile helplessly. 
Had Salatin not brought me unto Thee. 

Satan 
Hoyo ! Thou wilt in sooth become my man ? 

Theophile 

\_Kneeling on one knee and putting his hands 
between the hands of Satan 
My Lord, I swear thee fealty ! 

Satan 

All Hell can, 
For thee I'll valiantly essay : 
My huge might 
Shall make the battle impish play : 

And His plight 
Shall be yet lower than thine to-day. 
All this, my vassal, if thou'lt solemnly forswear 
Thy fealty to the Powers of the upper air ! 

Salatin 

All, Theophile, if thou wilt solemnly forswear 
Thy fealty to the Powers of the upper air ! 

Theophile [rising 

I will, and that right gladly ! 

Salatin 

Dost thou then forswear 
And utterly renounce thine enemy, the Father ? 

83 



Theophile 
I do forswear and utterly renounce the Father. \the wind wails 

Satan 

'Tis well ! 

Theophile 

So help me Hell ! 

Salatin 

Dost thou forswear and utterly renounce the Son ? 

Theophile 
I do forswear and utterly renounce the Son. 

\_Low thunder rumbles in the air 

Satan 

'Tis well ! 

Theophile 

So help me Hell ! 

Salatin 

And dost thou utterly renounce the Holy Ghost ? 

Theophile 
Yea, I do utterly renounce the Holy Ghost. 

\It thunders furiously 
Satan 
'Tis very well. 

Theophile 
So help me Hell ! 
Salatin 
And dost thou utterly forswear the Mother of God ? 

^Theophile stands silent^ quaking 

H 



Speak. Dost thou utterly forswear the Mother of God ? 

Theophile 

Nay! 

Salatin 
Nay ? But Theophile — 

Satan 

Be still. — Sweet servitor, 
Lo, thou shalt be a prince, a king, an emperor. 
If thou'lt renounce the Virgin's name. If not, forever 
Thy soul shall groan in nethermost Hell. Renounce Her ! 

Theophile 

Never ! 
Salatin 
Art mad? 

Satan 
Be still. — Renounce Her, or thy corpse shall lie 
Dead there ! But thy poor tortured soul shall never die ! 

Theophile [falling on his knees 

Hail to Thee, Mother whom men and angels love ! 

Salatin \_hastening away 

Master, beware. He prays to Her above ! 

Theophile 
Red rose glowing through life's gloom, 

Lily of virginity, 
Violet in Thy tender bloom. 

Wind-flower of humility, 
Rosemary whose balm-like breath 

Wafts to all souls clemency, 
Save me from the jaws of death ! 

8s 



/ 



Lily of virginity, 
Save me from the jaws of death ! 

Satan 
Ha ha ! Ha ha ha ! 
She rejects thee proudly ! 

Ha ha ! Hi hi hi ! 
Then renounce Her loudly, 
Or thou shalt surely die — I warn thee now afresh — 
And serpents with red fangs of fire shall rend thy flesh ! 

Theophile 
Virgin, flower of eglantine. 

Rescue me from Satan's ire ! 
Rose of Heaven, my soul is Thine ; 

Save it from eternal fire ! 

Satan 
Curs'd Theophile, ronounce Her, or thou diest ! 

Theophile 
Dear Virgin, glory to Thee in the highest ! 

Satan 
[Holding his right hand aloft with power 
Then die, perfidious heavenly one ! 

Theophile \mortally wounded 

Dearest Lady, hear Thy son ! 

Flower of eglantine, red rose, 
Lily fair, glad life is done : 

Through eternal fiery woes 
I must suffer for my sin, 

Suffer far, oh far from Thee ! 
Ere my punishment begin 

Pity, then, ah pity me ; 
86 



\ 



Grant me one sweet parting grace, 
One dear vision of Thy face ! 

Satan 
Hi hi ! Ha ha ha ! Hi hi ! Ha ha ! 

Theophile \_fatntly 

Ah, flower of eglantine, red rose, 

Sweet violet, smile upon my woes. 
Grant me one sight of Thy dear face ! \J)ying 

Oh, may I ne'er behold Thy grace ? 

Satan 
Ho ha ! Ha hi ! \To the devils below 

Lagazatha cahyolas^ 
Samahac et famyolas^ 
Harrahya ! 

[Heavenly light Jills the scene and a voice is 
heard 

The Voice 
My peace be with thee, Theophile. 

Satan \hastily 

Ha^ lamac lamec*hachalyos. 

[The Blessed Virgin appears 

The Virgin 
Thy love hath saved thee, Theophile. 

Satan \_in great rage 

Hi^ cahahagi sahalyos^ 

Baryolos ! \^He descends into Hell 

87 



\ 
\ 

\ 



The Virgin 
Dread wound of Theophile, 
Close, close and heal : 
Red blood of Theophile, 

Soft onward steal : 
Dear soul of Theophile, 

Leave woe for weal : 
Fear not, my Theophile — 

[^Sb hisses him upon the forehead 

Theophile 
Dear Lady, flower of eglantine, 

I fear no longer Satan's ire : 
Red rose of Heaven, all joy is mine ; 

My soul shall sing, yea, in Hell fire. 

The Virgin 
Night shall not seize thee, Theophile. 

Nay, God will deal 
Righteously toward thee, Theophile. 
Win but the love that He doth feel 

For thee : yea, kneel 
In trust to Him : to Him appeal 
As unto me, my Theophile. 
God bless thee, blessed Theophile. \_She is gone 

Theophile 
Red rose glowing through life's gloom, 

Lily of virginity, 
Violet in Thy tender bloom. 

Wind-flower of sweet sanctity, 
Rosemary whose balm-like breath 

Fills me with humility. 
Thine am I, e'en unto death ; 

88 



/ 



But for Thee and for Thy love, [rising 

Praise unto Thee, great God above ! 
Yea, praise to Thee and endless fame,* 

[kissing his medal 
And honor, Lady, to Thy name ! 

[Singing as he walks toward the abbey 

jive maris Stella^ 
Dei Mater alma^ 
Atque semper virga^ 
Felix coeli porta. . . 

Virgo singularis^ 
Inter omnis mitis^ 
Nos culpis solutos^ 
Mites fac et castas. . . 

Sit laus Deo Patri^ 
Summo Christo decus^ 
Spiritui Sancto^ 
Tribus honor unus. 

[Enter Eusebe as a simple monk.^ followed by 
an acolyte bearing the mitre 

EusEBE 
Ah, Theophile ! 

Theophile 
Once more I seek this place 
For I have met Our Lady face to face. 
But, driven guiltless from the abbey door, 
I sought with Salatin to wage a war 
'Gainst God. 

Eusebe [kneeling 

Dear Theophile ! 
89 



Theophile [raising him 

My Lord — 

EUSEBE 

Be still. 
[ Taking the mitre and setting it upon his head 
Forgiven is thy sin ; and 'tis Our Lady's will 
That in obedience unto thee thy lord shall bow, 
And set the mitre reverently upon thy brow. 
Moreover, saith Our Lady, thou shalt hold and wield 
The crozier, while I keep the keys which I did yield 
To thine accuser. 

Theophile 
Mathurin ? 

Eusebe 

Yea, even so. 
But he is dead. 

Theophile 
Poor Mathurin ! 

Eusebe 

Mourn not ; for lo, 
Dear Theophile, the Lord our God is very just 
And full of equity ; in Him still put our trust ; 
And though He chasteneth us, still give Him endless praise ; 
Yea, laud and magnify the glory of His ways ! 



90 



JA?^ 13 1903 



